


The Christmas Eve

by AngelinaZebi



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Best Friends, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Drama & Romance, Fluff, Friendship, Kissing, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 02:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12785352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelinaZebi/pseuds/AngelinaZebi
Summary: Lance&Pierre were decorating the Christmas tree before Esteban's arrival. After Esteban's arrival,Pierre advise them to be together.





	The Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleRookie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRookie/gifts).



> This gift is for Lesteban lovers.I hope you'll enioy this. Cheers :)

 

Lance's POV

 

 

“Pierre, did you finish all my Lucky Charms?” I holler from my crouching position by the kitchen pantry, desperately searching for my favorite box of cereal. I just know that my pesky flatmate, Pierre, devoured whatever was left of the box.

 

 

After a moment of silence, I try again. “Pierre! Did you eat my Lucky Charms!”

 

 

“What?” he yells back from another room.

 

 

“LUCKY! CHARMS!!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

 

 

“What about them?”

 

 

“DID YOU EAT THEM?”

 

 

A pause, then, “Oh, that. Yup.”

 

 

I heave a sigh of exasperation. The yelling matches are an all too familiar method of communication between the two of us. Him eating all my cereal is likewise a common occurrence. “Guess I’ll have to go to the supermarket. Again,” I mutter to myself, kicking the pantry door shut.

 

 

As much as I love my annoying slob of a flatmate, there are plenty of things about him that I wouldn’t mind changing. And his constant thievery of my main source of sustenance is at the top of the list.

 

 

I call out one more time. “I’m going shopping!” I wait for a moment, just in case he responds, but it’s more likely he didn’t hear me.

 

 

Probably watching TV, I realize. Or something else. I grab my keys, put on a coat and scarf, and head out the front door to my car.

 

 

It’s snowing, which makes me smile momentarily. Maybe I’ll have a white Christmas after all.

 

 

Arriving at the supermarket, I quickly find the cereal section and pack my shopping cart high with boxes of Lucky Charms.

 

 

I'm about to pay when I remember I'm running low on shampoo, so I grab some of that too. On my way out of the aisle, I spot my sister's makeup section and stop by, unable to resist.

 

 

Though I rarely put on a full face of makeup, I like to play with different lipstick colors. And as always, looking through the vast array of mascara options, my mind flashes to my crush. I can’t help but picture him, in all his hotness, and wonder if he would notice me more if I just put on the right place…

 

 

I shake myself and put down the tube of my sister's mascara I'm holding. I really need to stop thinking about Esteban.

He is so clearly out of my league; there’s no point making a fool out of yourself trying to get his attention.

 

 

I talked several times, what with him always being at my flat hanging out with Esteban, but I've never gotten the impression that he could be into me. Why would he be? He’s so cool, attractive and confident, and I'm so…not. I feel like a peasant pining over a handsome prince.

 

 

I sigh and wheel my cart to the checkout. I really need to move on.

 

 

But when I set down my enormous shopping bags and open the door to my flat, I remember why it’s not that easy to just get over my crush.

 

 

Because when the door opens, Esteban is there, standing just a few feet away. And God, he’s attractive. His perfect hair, his sparkling eyes, his beautiful mouth…which opens now to say my name.

 

 

“Hey, Lance.”

 

 

The simple greeting leaves me breathless. I try to say something clever in response but only manage to stammer, “H-hey…” I cringe.

 

 

No wonder I’ve never had a decent conversation with him.

 

 

He nods a little in response. I decide to be bold and say something else. “So, uh…what are you doing here?” The words come out shaky, but at least I made it through a full sentence.

 

 

“Oh, I was just getting something I left here…” He gestures vaguely in the direction of Pierre’s room.

 

 

Before I can decide whether to ask for clarification, Esteban bursts through the door of his room, holding a book. “Found it,” he announces.

 

 

He stops when he sees me. “Oh, you’re home. Got the cereal?”

 

 

I lift up the bulging shopping bags still in my hands. “We have Lucky Charms for months.”

 

 

I throw him a glare. “Unless you eat them all again.”

 

 

He puts his hands up defensively. “Okay, okay.” Crossing the room, he hands Esteban the book. “Here.”

 

 

Esteban grins. “Thanks. Now I can finally see how it ends.”

 

 

Esteban reads! I curse under my breath, because this only makes him more attractive. Why couldn’t God have made him uglier?

 

 

Pierre pats him on the shoulder. “No problem, nerd.” Esteban flips him off jokingly as my flatmate returns to his cave.

 

 

Now alone, Esteban turns back to face me. “So, uh…need any help with those groceries?”

 

 

I look down, remembering the large bags in my hands. “Oh, no, it’s fine, I got it, but thanks,” you say as casually as possible. “Umm…hey, what book is that?”

 

 

He looks at the book. “Oh, this? It’s The Great Gatsby. I know, it’s crazy that I’m only reading it now,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.

 

 

“I haven’t read it at all…does that make me crazy too?” I laugh nervously.

 

 

He smiles. “No, of course not. But you really should read it, it’s a fantastic book. Maybe when I finish it, I could lend it to you, if you want,” he offers.

 

 

I feel a blush creeping onto my cheeks as you smile at him. “That would be really great, thanks!”

 

 

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll bring it over when I’m done with it. Just as long as it doesn’t get lost in Pierre’s room again,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “That place is a disaster.”

 

 

“Tell me about it,” I agree.

 

 

After a moment’s silence, he clears his throat. “Well, I guess I should go…”

 

 

“Oh, right, of course.” I move away from the door so he can leave.

 

 

He walks over, and as he passes I he says, “Nice seeing you, Lance.”

 

 

Once again I'm left breathless at simply hearing my name from his mouth. I try to reply, maybe to say that it was nice seeing him too, or that he’s very cute or that I'm in love with him. But he’s already out the door. Probably for the best.

 

 

After a solid minute of reliving the conversation and fanning myself, trying to recover from his unreasonable cuteness, I go to the kitchen and start putting away the cereal boxes. Pierre comes out a minute later and fills up a mug of coffee. “Need any help?”

 

 

“Nah,” I reply absentmindedly, still thinking about Esteban.

 

 

“Good, cause I wouldn’t have helped anyway.” He grins and waits for me to flip him off or punch him, both of which I do quite frequently. When nothing happens, he peers into my face. “What’s the matter with you?”

 

 

“Mate, your friend is so hot,” I say before I can stop myself.

 

 

Pierre coughs and then laughs, his eyes widening. “Esteban? You wanna bang Esteban?”

 

 

“Hey, I didn’t say that!” I snap out of my funk and punch him in the arm. He chuckles. “There he is.”

 

 

I put another box in the cabinet. “He’s just, like, really cute, that’s all.”

 

 

Pierre rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.” Then he adds, “But by all means, date him, if it will turn me into this harmless, glazed-eyed bunny,” he teases, poking my cheek. I just shake my head in response. He laughs again. “Amazing.”

 

 

A few days later, it’s snowing again. And apparently, with snow comes Esteban. The doorbell rings, and you rush to answer it, wondering who it could be. I practically never have visitors. I swing open the door. And there he is, standing on my doorstep, looking beautiful with a dusting of snow in his hair and on his coat.

 

 

“Hey, Lance,” he says with a slight smile.

 

 

I quickly smooth down my hair, which I suddenly realize is a mess, and clear your throat a couple times. “Hey. I’ll go get Pierre.”

 

 

I turn to look for my flatmate, but Esteban stops me with a gentle hand on my arm. “Actually, it’s you I wanted to see,” he tells I quietly.

 

 

“Me?” I say nervously, surprised, and turn back to face him. He’s still standing, like, right there. Inches away from me. It’s a lot to handle.

 

 

“Yeah, um…I finished the book.”

 

 

“Book?” I echo questioningly. God, he has such gorgeous eyes…

 

 

He chuckles. “Yeah. Book.” He holds out The Great Gatsby. “So, uh, you mentioned a few days ago how you never read this, and I offered to lend it to you-”

 

 

“Yeah, I remember.” I smile reassuringly. Funny, he seems almost shy, which I would never expect from someone as hot as him. It’s very endearing.

 

 

“Um, did you still want to borrow it?” He bites his lower lip nervously. Does he know what that does to me?

 

 

“Oh, yes, totally,” I say eagerly. Esteban passes me the book, and as I take it from him, my fingers graze his. He pulls his hands back quickly, and I feel a twinge of disappointment. Is he that disgusted with me that he can’t touch my fingers?

 

 

“Thanks, I’ll get it back to you right away,” I say brightly, trying not to let the disappointment show.

 

 

“Take your time, I’ve already read it,” he reminds you. He turns to leave but you stop him. “Do you want to come in for a bit? It’s snowing pretty hard out there,” I point out.

 

 

He hesitates, but continues his retreat anyway. “Oh, that’s okay, I don’t want to intrude.”

 

 

I frown. “Okay.” Maybe he’s just being polite, but I don’t want to push it and make myself any more obvious than I already have. “I’ll let you go, then. Stay warm.”

 

 

“Thanks,” he mumbles as he walks away. I watch him go for a moment before closing the door with a sigh. As I lean against it, kicking myself for being too bold, Pierre emerges from his room. “Who was that?” he asks as he goes into the kitchen.

 

 

“Esteban,” I reply distractedly.

 

 

“Really?” He pokes his head back out, coffee mug in hand. “He left quickly. What did he want?”

 

 

“He was just dropping off a book,” I explain. “The Great Gatsby.”

 

 

Pierre raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the book I just gave back?”

 

 

“Yeah, he said I could borrow it when he was done.”

 

 

“Mmhmm.” Pierre watches me for a moment before changing the subject. “I’m thinking of hosting a Christmas party this weekend.”

 

 

“Here?” I groan. “How many people?”

 

 

He leans casually against the doorframe. “Oh, just a few, you know. No big deal.” He eyes me again. “Just some close friends…like Esteban, for example.”

 

 

Now I'm paying attention. I try to act casual too. “Okay, well, whatever. I’ll just stay in my room and avoid your annoying friends.”

 

 

“Annoying, huh?” Pierre smirks. “I don’t think that’s how you described Esteban the other day". He teased shyly.

 

 

A fierce blush rises to my face. “I - ugh - shut up,” I decide after failing to think of a snappy comeback. Pierre chuckles as I quickly escape into my room.

 

 

I open up Esteban’s book, deciding to read it as quickly as possible so I can return it to him at the party that weekend. Settling into a comfortable position on my bed, I flip to the first page and start reading.

 

 

Hours later, I'm  startled out of my reading by a knock on the door. “Lance, you alright in there?”

 

 

"Pierre. “Yeah, I’m good,” I yell back.

 

 

“Just checking. I thought you died.”

 

 

“Nope, still alive,” I assure him.

 

 

“Damnit.” He laughs at his joke.

 

 

I roll my eyes. “Did you need something?”

 

 

“Oh, yeah. I’m ordering pizza, you want some?”

 

 

Pizza? What time is it? I check my phone. Wow, it’s already eight. Time flies when I'm reading a good book. (Given to me by my crush, no less.)

 

 

“Yeah, get a pie and I’ll eat whatever escapes your ravenous hunger,” I call out.

 

 

When he leaves to order the pizza, I return to the book. Checking my progress, I see that I only have a few pages left.

 

 

At Pierre’s call of “Pizza’s here!”, I exit the room, bringing the book with me, and continue reading as I sit down at the kitchen table.

 

 

“Have you been reading that all afternoon?” Pierre asks incredulously as he sets down the pizza box.

 

 

“I’m soo close to finishing. Don’t talk to me for like five minutes, please,” I beg him as I turn to the next page.

 

 

“Good God, Lance, you don’t have to read the whole thing in one day,” he remarks. “And I never pegged you as a big reader.”

 

 

“I read!” I shoot back, offended.

 

 

“But never this much,” Pierre points out. “I wonder if it could have anything to do with Esteban, and how hot he is.” He adds extra emphasis to the word, just to see me squirm.

 

 

I groan. “Ugh, please, let it go! I was kidding. Or not, but there are loads of hot people in the world. I’m not in love with him or anything.” I stop myself before I can continue babbling on like a lunatic.

 

 

“Are you sure about that?” Pierre teases as he takes a bite of pizza. I sigh and shut the book, pulling out a slice for myself.

 

 

“Okay, maybe I would date him, if only he weren’t totally out of my league,” I confess reluctantly.

 

 

“And the truth comes out.” Pierre grins and leans back in his chair. “You really like him, huh?”

 

 

“Again, I didn’t say that,” you protest, “…but yeah, I guess I do.” I wince a little at the thought, and the fact that I'm  telling all this to Pierre, of all people. “But it’s hopeless, he would never like someone like me.”

 

 

Pierre tilts his head to one side thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t be so sure. He’s been coming over a lot recently, hasn’t he?”

 

 

“Twice in one week isn’t ‘a lot,’” I inform him. “Plus, he comes for you, not for me.”

 

 

“That’s a good one.” He laughs. “I didn’t even see him at all today. And you should know, he wouldn’t lend a book out to just anyone. He’s very protective of his books.”

 

 

“Protective enough to leave them behind in your pigsty of a room?” I tease, taking another bite of pizza as Pierre  sticks his tongue out at me.

 

 

That Saturday is Christmas Eve, and the day of my flatmate’s “small party.” As expected, “small” is hardly an accurate description of the party. There could be anywhere from fifty to a hundred people here. I poke my head out of my room, wondering if Esteban has arrived yet, and shrink back, overwhelmed by the crowd. But I really want a drink, so I plan out a path from my room to the kitchen and make a dash for it.

 

 

Skidding to a stop in the kitchen, I reach into the fridge and grab a can of Coke.

 

 

I shut the fridge door and open the can, taking a delicious sip and sighing happily. Iturn around to run back to my room and immediately collide with someone, spilling Coke all over myself.

 

 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” says a familiar voice. I look up and see Esteban with a hand over his mouth. He removes it and more words spill out: “Are you okay, oh God, sorry, I’ve ruined your shirt…”

 

 

I look down just to check, but sure enough, I only wearing a t-shirt and jeans. “It’s no big deal, these are my pjs. It’ll come out in the wash,” I reassure him. Then I notice a large dark spot on his sweater. “Sorry, did I get some on your shirt?”

 

 

He looks down too. “Oh, yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

 

 

“Are you sure? I can lend you one of Pierre’s shirts, he won’t mind,” I offer anxiously.

 

 

He hesitates, but relents. “Okay, if you’re sure. Thanks.”

 

 

I lead him through the noisy crowd of people to Pierre’s room and, after tiptoeing my way around the piles of junk and clothes strewn over the floor, open his closet.

 

 

Together I look in only faint surprise at the three or four shirts hanging on the hangers. “Well, at least it won’t be hard to pick one,” I offer up meekly.

 

 

Esteban laughs. “Looks like most of his closet is on the floor at the moment,” he remarks. “I’ll just wear this.” He pulls a button down off its hanger and then pulls his sweater over his head.

 

 

Before I can register what’s happening, his gloriously toned chest is only a foot or so away from my face. I cough loudly as a blush rises quickly to my cheeks. “Um, I’ll leave you alone,” I mumble quickly.

 

 

He watches my reaction with a small grin as he buttons up Pierre’s shirt. “Don’t worry, I’m keeping the rest of my clothes on,” he says teasingly.

 

 

Oh, no, take them off, please, I think, but put on an innocent smile. To break the silence, I say, “I finished The Great Gatsby. I have it in my room if you want it back.”

 

 

He cocks an eyebrow. “That was fast! You sure you don’t want to keep it a little longer?”

 

 

“Yeah, I read it all in one sitting, it was that good. You can have it though.” I lead him to my room, and after hesitating in the doorway for a moment, he follows me inside.

 

 

While I retrieve the book from my nightstand, Esteban walks in a circle around the room, examining your bookshelves and posters. I hold out the book as he approaches me. “Merry Christmas,” I joke.

 

 

He smiles. “Why thank you, I’m touched,” he says with a chuckle. Then he gets serious. “Actually, I…have something for you too.”

 

 

“Really?” My mouth opens slightly, as you stand there, at a temporary loss for words. “I…you didn’t have to.”

 

 

He pulls a small box out of his pocket and hands it to me. Iopen it up to see a beautiful pair of gloves, and gasp quietly. I touch them lightly with your fingers, hardly able to believe they’re real, or that this is really happening. “These are for me?” I look back up at him, trying to read his expression.

 

 

Esteban smiles at me. “I just figured…you know, you deserve something for putting up with this big party at your place. And I feel like you’re becoming a really good friend.”

 

 

“Oh.” I'm caught between the extreme happiness of getting a gift from my  crush and the disappointment of being friendzoned. “Thanks, you too.”

 

 

He scratches his neck awkwardly. “Um…wanna put them on?”

 

 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” I remove my gloves hastily and take the casket out of the box. I fumble to put them in my hands, but my hands are shaking too much and I keep missing. I curse inwardly for making your nervousness so obvious.

 

 

Esteban laughs lightly. “Need a hand?”

 

 

“Uhh, maybe…” I crack an embarrassed smile and hand him the gloves. He steps closer to me and puts them in my hands with ease, his fingers brushing my skin in the process. He steps back when he’s finished, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Well, how do they look?” I smile, trying to ignore the heat in my face, and wiping my palms subtly (my hope) on my pants.

 

 

“Beautiful.” He smiles back, and my skin heats up all over again. I find myself unable to meet his eyes. Maybe if I do, he’ll be able to tell how madly in love with him I am.

 

 

Esteban saves me  from your own awkwardness. “Okay, I guess I’ll go back out there and try to socialize now,” he says with a nervous laugh.

 

 

“Good luck.” I remember the book suddenly and grab it from your bed, where he’d put it down before. “Don’t forget your book!”

 

 

“Thanks. Merry Christmas, Lance.” He takes it from me, nods farewell and closes the door behind him.

 

 

I flop onto my bed, waiting for my heartbeat to slow back down. I hate how nervous I get around him, and how very obvious I must be making it. As if my chances aren’t bad enough already, now I'm reduced to a stammering idiot whenever he comes around.

 

 

I glance out the window. Small white tufts are falling from the sky, illuminated by the Christmas lights around the trees and nearby buildings. I smile to myself, calmed by the sight.

 

 

Funny how Esteban always seems to bring the snow with him. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Either way, I decide, I definitely love snow. My eyes close slowly as I settle back contentedly in bed.

 

 

An hour or so later, I blink awake. I check the time, shocked that I fell asleep. The party must be over by now. I tiptoe over to my door and press an ear against it just to see if there are still people in the flat. It’s silent, so I'm about to open the door. But then I hear Esteban’s hushed voice.

 

 

“It’s hard to explain, but something about her just draws me in, you know?”

 

 

I'm instantly wide awake. Who could he be talking about? Of course, I don’t know anything about his friends or coworkers. He’s probably surrounded by hot girls, which is why I have no chance with him.

 

 

Pierre’s noncommittal grunt comes through the door, and he says something too quietly for me to hear. I strain to catch more of the conversation.

 

 

“I know, we’ve barely talked, but it doesn’t take much to really like this boy…” I can hear the smile in his voice as the sentence fades.

 

 

“Well, do you think she likes you back?” Pierre sounds amused, almost like he’s hiding something.

 

 

“I wish, but there’s no way. He could do so much better than me,” Esteban says dejectedly. Who on earth is he talking about? As if any boy ever could do better than Esteban!

 

 

Pierre snorts. “Yeah, right, she’d be lucky to get a guy like you,” he says, then adds, “No girlfriends,no problem.”

 

 

Esteban laughs halfheartedly. “You missed a cup over there.”

 

 

“Thanks.” There’s the faint sound of rustling trash bags. They must be cleaning up the place. It’s just like Esteban, to stay and help after everyone else has left.

 

 

After a moment, Esteban’s voice speaks up again. “Hey, Lance is definitely asleep, right?”

 

 

“He was out cold when I checked ten minutes ago.” Upon hearing that, I quickly tiptoe back to bed and lie down, just in case they decide to check again.

 

 

They don’t, and I want to go back to listen to the rest of their conversation, desperate to know who this mystery boy is. But instead me just lie there in torment for ten or twenty minutes, after which I decide it’s safe to “wake up” and leave the room.

 

 

When I open the door, I see Pierre and Esteban still cleaning up, rearranging lopsided furniture and discarding stray plastic cups. Esteban glances up. “Hi.”

 

 

“Hi,” I reply, stretching. Esteban looks up too, and his eyes go back and forth between mr and Esteban. He has that mischievous look he gets when he knows something.

 

 

He’d better not give away anything you confessed to him the other day. I shoot him a warning glare as I fake a yawn. “God, what time is it?”

 

 

Pierre checks his phone. “Almost midnight,” he announces.

 

 

Esteban straightens up abruptly. “Oh, man, I should get going.” I watch him as he puts away a last soda bottle and heads to the coat rack to get his jacket. “Thanks for the party, Pierre. And Lance, thanks for the book,” he says, holding up The Great Gatsby with a gentle smile.

 

 

“Oh, yeah. No problem.” I shove my hands in my pockets, awkwardly bouncing on the balls of my feet.

 

 

Pierre,who has been watching the exchange without interruption, now speaks up. “Okay, enough,” he declares, to the mutual confusion of me and Esteban. “Dude, I’m not just gonna let you leave like that.”

 

 

“Um…huh?” Esteban voices my bewilderment.

 

 

Pierre smirks in satisfaction. “What with all the new information I’ve gotten from both of you recently, I can’t just sit back and do nothing.”

 

 

I exchange a glance with Esteban. I'm too nervous to say anything, knowing what information Pierre has from me. But Esteban isn’t as shy. “Speak English, please,” he says. “What are you talking about?”

 

 

“You two, of course,” Pierre  says, as if it’s obvious. “I’m done watching you pining over each other and making lovey eyes towards each other. Just fess up, for God’s sake.”

 

 

There’s a moment’s silence as neither of me dare say anything. Pierre shrugs. “Fine, I’ll do it for you.” He turns to Esteban. “Esteban, Lance likes you.” As Esteban grapples with the news, gaping in shock, Pierre turns to me. “And Lance, Esteban likes you. There, wasn’t that easy? Now, feel free to make out, or whatever. I’ll leave you to it.” And just like that, he casually strolls back into his room.

 

 

For a minute I and Esteban just stare at each other, unable to say anything. Finally Esteban speaks up. “Lance, is that true?” he says softly.

 

 

My face is definitely bright red at this point. I look around the room, anywhere but at Esteban. “Uhh, I don’t- I mean, I guess…yeah…” you stutter, like a complete fool. “Umm…what about you? Do you…” I leave the end of the question hanging.

 

 

Esteban slowly breaks into a grin. “Yeah, it’s true. I like you. Like, a lot.” He takes a few cautious steps towards me.

 

 

A giddy feeling of ecstasy starts to spread through me as I grin in response.

 

 

“Oh. Well great, cause I like you a lot, too.” I frown. “Wait, you already knew that.”

 

 

He laughs. “Well, it’s nice to hear again,” he says jokingly, taking a few more steps towards me.

 

 

“Why…why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

 

 

“I would have, but I was just way too shy.” He reaches me and stops a foot away. Lord he is tall close up.

 

 

“Why would you be shy? You’re totally out of my league!” I protest in bewilderment.

 

 

Esteban shakes his head. “Not true at all. Lance, you're so sweet.”

 

 

I frown. “I’m not-” I start, but before I can finish, I'm stopped quite literally by a mouth on mine. Well, that’s happening. My brain freezes completely and all thoughts fly out immediately.

 

 

Esteban’s arms land on my waist and pull me closer as he kisses me in the most perfect way imaginable. When he finally pulls away, I almost collapse.

 

 

He has to grab my arms to keep me up. Laughing, he leans over and whispers in my ear, “Do you believe me yet?”

 

 

“Mmhmm,” I whisper back, grabbing his face and kissing him again. Oh, I am  never going to get tired of this. That is, if Esteban wants to go out with me…

 

 

Right on cue, Esteban breaks the kiss again. “Be my my boyfriend?” he asks in a low voice.

 

 

“Only if you’ll be my boyfriend too,” I joke.

 

 

“Deal.” He chuckles. “This will definitely be my favorite Christmas present ever.”

 

 

“No contest,” I agree, stretching up to go in for a third kiss.

 

 

And at that moment, in my crush’s arms with colored lights around me and the faint sound of Christmas music in the distance, I feel like I'm in a fairytale. Best Christmas ever, I decide happily.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second time that I participate in the important writting challenge. I hope you love it. Christmas will always be near for them.


End file.
